


Clean Slate

by smoakmonster



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amnesia, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arrow (TV 2012) Season 7 Speculation, F/M, Family Angst, Memory Loss, Temporary Amnesia, olicity - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-05
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-08-19 10:48:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16533119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smoakmonster/pseuds/smoakmonster
Summary: What happens when Oliver loses his memories of Felicity and William? How will this hurting family heal when he finally returns home from prison and doesn't know who his wife and son are?This series is based on speculation from the Arrow 7x05 trailer that was released on Nov 5. As such, this short series will start in speculation and will likely shift to canon divergence or even au depending on what happens in the next few episodes. Future tags will be added accordingly.





	Clean Slate

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter is pure speculation based on the 7x05 trailer. Spoilers for 7x05 obviously!

Gray days bleed into weeks, and Oliver spends all of his alone time clutching the photo of Felicity and William, stroking Felicity’s hair with his thumb, imagining running the soft, silky texture in between his fingers. Imagining the smell of spring and sunshine whenever he would tuck her head beneath his chin, feeling the way she fit perfectly against his side. Imagining all kinds of things he’s starting to forget. 

The photo is his constant reminder of a better life, of all he’s given up, of all he’s fighting to get back someday.

When he’s alone, he never lets the photo out of his grasp. And when he’s being poked and prodded like a guinea pig, he keeps the photo safely tucked beneath his clothes. And then, when the day is finally over, he falls asleep with Felicity’s head over his heart, right where she belongs.

Until one day, he wakes up, and everything is different. Groggy, he knows where he is, and he sort of recalls why he’s in prison. He feels lighter than before, but also like something is missing? Everything seems fuzzy and not quite right. And the photo he finds laying on top of his chest feels like lead weighing him down. He can hardly breathe. 

Cold dread slips up his spine as he studies two faces smiling back at him.

He doesn’t recognize them.

He should know them, but he doesn’t. Panic floods his veins as he tries remembering and can’t. He pushes his thoughts out as far as they will go, to the outermost recesses of his head. And all he finds is vast, pitch black emptiness. 

Panic eventually gives way to frustration and anger and disappointment, as he spends hours in a silent, isolated cell, sifting through the dense fog that is his brain, searching restlessly for a name or a word or anything, anything that he can hold on to like a lifeline.  

Who is the boy who bears so many resemblances to him? And who is the woman in the glasses? What is her name? When was he ever as happy as these two people were in the moment this photo was taken?

Whoever they are, he realizes they must be important to him. Why else would he have kept the photo? It’s the one secret keepsake he carries with him. And at night, there are some habits he finds himself falling into without reason. He doesn’t know why he does it, but he always hides the photo from the guards when they visit him for daily blood draws. When he tries to sleep, he keeps the photo nestled near his heart beneath his hands. He can’t explain it, but the photo makes him feel safe. And he trusts that feeling more than he trusts his own mind. This strange picture is his only identifier to the outside world, to a life that’s slowly slipping out of his grasp.

What’s most agonizing is that he knows they're real. He can  _feel_  the memories just on the horizon of his mind, but something like a brick wall is stopping him from getting to the other side. He has to find a way to get through the brick wall. 

So endures the drugs that feel like torture and the provoking questions and all the dreams that make him shiver, whether from fear or the cold or from the after-effects of the drugs, he doesn't know. He doesn’t know where the memories end and the nightmares begin. He has flashes of these images--like slivers of light breaking through a blanket of clouds, though he’s not sure; he’s starting to forget what sunlight looks like, too--small, happy moments of a life that seems so very far away and not quite real. Kisses on the beach. Omelettes for dinner. Playing video games and laughing until three in the morning. 

And he  _tries._ Oh, he tries to the point of tears to grab onto just  _one_ tiny, fractured memory. At least he hopes the beautiful images haunting him are memories and not just false fantasies that are the result of impaired judgment and a shattered spirit.

Something like timid resolve settles over him when one day he realizes he may never remember who the people in the photo are, who they are to  _him._ And yet, he desperately wants to find out. He wants to return to a world where two people he knew where happy once. Even if he can’t get his memories back, he’ll find away to get back to them. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


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